


Unorthodox at Best

by Casjuice



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hannigram - Freeform, Hypothermia, Kinda Dubious Consent, M/M, Massage, Smut, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:50:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1794376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casjuice/pseuds/Casjuice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sleet, moderate hypothermia and something a bit stronger than hot chocolate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unorthodox at Best

The air was cold at this time of year, bitter cold. It bit and crept over your skin, slipping through however many layers you hung over your shaking body to suck it of any heat. And when the icy tongues of gale and bucketing sleet whipped at your cheeks and gnawed at your fingers, usually, the only thought possessing you was getting inside and getting warm.

Such was the case with Will Graham, but this basic need was trumped by any number of thoughts he wished weren’t there. He wanted to be home; to be driving back to Wolftrap, back to his fireplace, his dogs and lures, but obligations steered him elsewhere. Well, tore him through this freezing lake of a storm, not ‘steered’- that would imply a much more straightforward and less miserable mode of travel.

Miserable. Ha. It was hateful. Any patch of skin exposed to the weather felt a thousand times whipped and seared; anything covered by clothing may as well not be; retaining warmth was impossible. His glasses resembled frozen pools, eyes squinting and reddened behind them; practically blinded by the heavy grey of the storm.  
Into this grey bled his destination; like ink through the opposite side of a paper, bit by bit and strangely swirled by creeping body of cloud and snow that stung like needle pricks on the skin. 

Will screwed his eyes shut and groaned, hands brushing the icy flakes from his skin before they could burn it anymore. He felt a tear in his lungs and forced out a cough, dismissing the taste of rust and sharp pain that came with his breaths afterwards. He walked on.

\--------------------------------

The doorknob burned and his fingers stuck to it. He would hiss at the pain but with a body that cold he hardly cared, one more crease in a screwball didn’t matter, he figured. Will twisted a numb wrist and pulled, a hard thing to do when the muscles wouldn’t stop jerking. 

Heat.

The warm air rolled out and over him and Will’s head spun at it; glasses fogging, blood rushing to every inch of his body exposed to the sudden warmth. He could have collapsed if he hadn’t clung to the door while he closed it, the definite slam much louder than it should have been. A rough cough squeezed his lungs and ripped through his throat. Will was used to being ill, he was ill more often than he was well, and even his description of well was a doctor’s description of sick.  
 _Speaking of doctors…_

As Will slid slowly down the dark wood, eyes closing as the instinct to rest lulled his trembling; brisk but not over-loud footfalls gradually came closer and soon a pair of large, warm hands had cupped his cheeks; burning, yet not painfully.

“Will-“The voice was steady, something to focus on; he needed to focus- focus

“D-doc-ctor” Will forced open his eyes; face slack as he fought off unconsciousness. He raised a hand and clung weakly to a cool sleeve, needing to attach himself to something to stop his body dropping to the floor. “Cold-“

“You’re hypothermic” A firm, yet gentle grip raised his chin, another hand took off his glasses that had been stinging with the cold they still clung to. “You shouldn’t have come in this weather, yet alone by foot.”

“It was a-g-gainst my better j-judgement,” This was met with a sigh, and Will observed a slightly out of focus frown, “ I didn’t want to m-miss our a-p-pointment.”

“I salute you for your good intentions, but I would have been more at ease if you hadn’t come at all,” Hannibal propped him up, hooking an arm under Will’s, “But here you are- and I cannot send you back out.” Standing up with a controlled puff, Hannibal rose Will to his feet, hooking the smaller’s arm around his shoulders for extra stability. 

Will was too cold to say anything, or really think much; leaning into Hannibal’s seemingly impossible heat. He breathed in the warm air and sighed, a shudder passing through him, not necessarily because of the cold, muggy feeling being covered in multiple saturated layers gave you. But he couldn’t really pin what it was. 

A gentle shake opened Will’s eyes that he hadn’t noticed had shut, “Wake up-“ Lecter’s tone was soft, but stern, “You cannot let yourself fall asleep; do you understand?”

“Mhmm-” Will’s voice was quiet, vocal chords not in the mood to cooperate, “S-sorry...where am i?”

He was lowered down on to a plush seat, the leather’s texture barely felt by his numb fingertips. He breathed in slowly, senses working to piece together a room from the gentle dusty smell of carpet and the more violent scent of polished hardwood. So busy building his surroundings, he hadn’t noticed the slight tingle of a thermometer being placed briefly in his ear and the brisk footsteps that followed.

“You are in my home- Will, do you remember coming in?” the younger felt hands groping over him, lifting him from his seat and shedding weight off his body; skin prickling at the lack of oppressive moisture, numbness peeling away to be replaced by a feeling of exposure; of discomfort.

Will rolled open his eyes, the lethargy hard to fight off. “No… maybe-?” He moved slowly, wrapping his arms around his sides protectively, made uneasy by the feeling of cold, damp flesh rather than the worn fabric of his favourite jacket, “Where are my-“

Firm hands pressed him back onto the seat; which felt a bit less pleasant without the filter of jeans or underwear, “Clothes?” The sensation of nakedness was replaced by the oppressive texture of a woollen blanket, “Leaving a hypothermic in cold, soaked clothing is very dangerous, Will.” Extra weight was piled on, intensifying the cuddly feeling of the blankets as the weight pressed them closer, “Sorry, I should have warned you beforehand,” Another blanket, and Will was actually starting to feel comfortable, “That was incredibly rude of me.”

“Mmm…” Will felt his glasses slide off as he relaxed the muscles in his neck, chin pressing into the fluff of the blanket, “Rude…” He pulled the blankets up over his face and snuggled inside them, it was a pleasant feeling but the iciness of his blood prevented them from being warmed, and his body was still shivering; weakly now for the lack of energy. “I’m so t-tired, doctor…”

“Just stay awake for a little while longer, Will,” Something hot and heavy was placed gently on top of the blankets, Will poked his hands out to drag it closer to his bare body. It seared at first, but the warmth from it heated the blankets, and slowly some sensation started to return to Will’s limbs, “I’ll be back soon.”

Obediently the younger forced his eyes open and kept them open; everything was fuzzy and strange without the help of his glasses, and his head was pulsing and aching, begging him to let his eyelids drop. He yawned, stretching weakly only to recoil when a sharp hack made him double over and groan. He curled his knees up to his body, up to the heat of the hot water bottle Hannibal had given him, wrapping in foetal position around it to absorb as much warmth as he possibly could. 

“Hannibal…” Will’s eyes were slipping and he could physically feel his heartbeat slowing- his chest tightening and warmth becoming more distant, “Can’t…”

Footsteps clicked into the room and a tug from either side rose Will and all of his blankets off the seat and into a tight embrace, followed by a slow lowering down onto what Will deduced was Hannibal’s lap. The elder started rubbing Will’s sides firmly, the friction between the blankets and the younger’s skin building up heat. His steady breathing was a comfort, and the occasional ruffle of it through Will’s hair. “You should be at a hospital, but the phone lines are down,” One arm stopped rubbing his side and Will drew in the scent of something sweet and rich, “We’ll have to make do; drink this.”

Hot porcelain pressed against Will’s blue lips and he sucked in the sweetest drink he’d ever tasted. Rich and chocolaty and just that little bit bitter, it slowly flowed down his throat, leaving a trail of warmth as it went. He hummed contently, a bit of colour returning to his cheeks.

“Good?” Hannibal’s voice was more welcome than it normally was to Will, more gentle and less prying, less like it was trying to stab him in the dark. Will flicked his eyes open again, heart stammering a little at the sight of Hannibal’s arms wrapped around him, but the unease he expected to feel because of this didn’t come; just a little more heat bleeding back into his bloodstream, and a slightly more energetic heartbeat. 

“Very..” The lethargy of before was only weakly present now, his body slowly remembering how to heat itself as Hannibal gently rubbed the blankets and fed him sips of hot chocolate. They sat like that for a while, quietly and peacefully. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank, Will,” The doctor’s breath tickled through Will’s messy dark hair, Will shivered slightly, “May I ask why you were so desperate to keep our appointment?”

The younger’s brow creased, a frown present on his lax features for a brief moment, “Bad day” was the most descriptive answer he was willing to provide. 

“Bad day? The sceptical tone of Lecter’s voice implied a raised eyebrow , but a frown was out of the question, his voice had a certain thickness about it foreign to a displeased expression, “Did you hope for me to better it?”

“Something like that.” Will focused absently on a point across the room, squeezing his knees under the blankets, “To be honest I don’t know what got into me.”

“You are stressed; that is the core of it I suspect.” The soothing movement of Hannibal’s hands slowed, much to Will’s displeasure. Well, at least at first.  
A subtle influx of heat in Will’s veins came with the slow trail of Lecter’s hands, moving with an odd combination of surgeon’s precision and a masseuse’s soothing pressure. Shivering muscles were melting and anxiety was draining; Will's legs loosened, falling from where they had been glued to his chest and squeezed by his arms, slipping and tugging the blanket down with them, moving it out from under Will gradually, it's plushness replaced by a smoother texture, finer. Warmer. "Let me help."

The younger sighed as the artfully guided hands softened his stiff limbs and sent pleasant waves of silence through the static. Violent chills exchanged themselves for deep, quiet breaths. Will leant back his head and trembled when his neck brushed against Lecter's chin. Warm breath hovered over his pale skin and the hands kept up the constant ebb and flow; Hannibal's lap shifting, Will's limp body falling between the doctor's legs when they parted; his head lolling to one side, cheek brushing over a silk shirt collar and eyes fluttering shut. The pulsing in his head lessened in doing so, Will could sink further into the sense of luxury, but further from security. 

This was walking into the rising tide.

Sharp rocks a guarantee.

Paradise a chance.

One hand slid down and vanished from feeling, the other came as close as it could, beckoning a gasp as Lecter's fingers rippled over Will's vulnerable neck.

Something unseen brushing against him in the water. He lay still. 

A shark.

It came back and brushed stronger, breath quietly withdrawn and released. A palm pressed over his windpipe, Will's lips drew themselves together tightly, his lungs stilled. The palm slid down, the fingers trailed, the heat followed them and the skin prickled in their wake. Graham could feel his ribs squeezing his lungs and his lungs crushing his heart, forcing it to beat twice as fast as it found itself suddenly stuck in half the space. The thighs on either side of his own pressed against his legs for a brief moment.

Will drew his knees together, away from sharp rocks.

A rip tide drew them apart.

The other hand slipped out of the depths and invaded the soft but heavy shroud of the blankets; its comparative chill twisting the nerves on Will's bare hip as it gripped it tight, fingers splayed over the curve, reaching towards the dip. "Hannibal-"

Smooth dryness with a line of moisture met Will's neck and he pressed his head back further, bucking backwards into Lecter's body. As the doctor's lips dragged over his veins Will's pulse roared in his ears and his heart pounded in a mixture of exhilaration and thick fear. Everything about this was new, strange, scary. He saw red behind his eyelids and the moisture dragged over the raw nerves, his body bucked again and he sighed something he didn't quite hear for the gushing inside his head, inside his veins. The moisture pooled, and teeth brushed his skin, a tongue tasted the salt of his nervous sweat; the hand on his moved down, falling between his legs. 

The heat shot down fast; the younger whining as it did, as he felt his head spin breifly, as Hannibal sucked his neck and tickled his cock. Unlike everything broken in his head, Will's body responded perfectly. His eyes screw up and his lips part to let out a trembling moan from somewhere deep inside him that never let itself be heard. He was being vivisected and pinned to a table, being tweaked and played with, his wall crumbling, skin being pulled back to let Lecter see every inch of him. As the light grip on his sex shifted he rolled his hips with it. He could feel the smirk slide up to his jaw line, to his bottom lip. 

The shark bit and tugged, the waves slammed him into the sharp rocks.

His blushing dick was hard and weeping, twitching in Lecter's hand; Will was jolting in and out of his senses, everything intense and focussed as he breathed in, blurred and dark as he breathed out; time spent in either would shorten. He felt hurled back and forth,but held in place; needy but wanting to run away. 

Not that he could run; his legs were rooted to the seat, his ass practically glued between Hannibal's legs. Will toes curled as the elder rubbed his satin thumb over the wet slit of his dick's dusty pink head, a moan swallowed in a deep, luscious kiss. Decadent, red wine with the burn of vodka, Hannibal's tongue a force over his. A drug. 

Sweat was shining on Will's forehead and his eyes were half open, unfocussed, dazed as he panted between long, animal kisses; as he gasped and whine between stronger pumps of Lecter's lithe fist. The blankets had fallen off and precum was bleeding from the tip, slicking the shaft as Hannibal milked it vigorously, wild curls of Will's dark, damp hair bouncing over his temples as he lurched erratically; a controlled seizure gradually growing faster and faster, more erratic as white started to fill the heavy lidded eyes and air got harder to breathe.

The shark was going in for the kill, the prey was drowning.

One motion, a flick of Hannibal's wrist drew ribbons of white from the tip; a cry tearing up the last locked down section of Graham. 

Blinded, Will slammed into the rocks of paradise, body broken and vulnerable, exposure at its fullest and its sweetest. Steady breathing of the predator contrasted the breathless gasping of the prey, the whimpers and hoarse moans of a man swept up in a magic kind of madness. He floated there in the bright light for what seemed an eternity, for what was mere seconds. 

And as he fell back into reality, as the tides receded and the needle sewed him back together, as the rocky shore of paradise turned to fine dust then nothing; Will Graham felt silent. Free of empathy, fear, cold. All was quiet but for the calming tick of blood in his veins and the suggestion of breathing. 

It was no longer a bad day.

.


End file.
